


Lady and the Wolf - Prelude to Winter

by castaliareed



Series: Lady and the Wolf [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, Cousin Incest, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Half-Sibling Incest, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prophetic Dreams, Romance, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9617015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castaliareed/pseuds/castaliareed
Summary: In the Prelude to Winter, Sansa Stark and Jon Snow travel the North to rally the Lords and Ladies to their cause. They are not the children they once were. Both have lived through tragedy and horror. Sansa seeks comfort from her only remaining family member when the night is dark and full of terrors.The Lady and the Wolf SeriesSansa Stark and Jon Snow reunited at Castle Black where Sansa convinced her half-brother to help her win back their childhood home, Winterfell. Lady and the Wolf follows them after they have returned home and Jon has been declared King in the North. Together, they begin planning for the war for the dawn and the future of the North.  Can their growing bond withstand the secrets, painful revelations, mysterious guests, plots, and the return of their family?Note: This is straight JonSa fic. You've been warned. :-)





	1. Sansa

The boat ride to Bear Island had been easier than the return trip. The waves rocked the small skiff that carried Sansa, her brother Jon Snow, Lord Davos, Lady Mormont and Jon's direwolf Ghost. It would take all morning for them and the 62 Mormont men to cross the bay. Frigid water splashed over the sides. Jon had forced Sansa to sit in the middle in a failed attempt to keep her dry.

From there they would make their way to Deepwood Motte to petition the Glovers for support of their cause. Sansa prayed it would be easier than convincing little fierce Lyanna Mormont to join them. Somehow she did not think it would. After the hard crossing, they marched inland barely a league just enough to be sheltered from the sea by the trees before Jon decided they should make camp for the night.

A smaller group would go to Deepwood Motte, while the majority of the Mormont fighters would make for the wildling camp. The smaller group would make faster time and most likely rejoin the larger one before they reached the wildlings.

They were able to raise the tents quickly and light the cook fires. Despite the cold, a cold almost as fierce as it had been at Castle Black, Sansa found this part of the North beautiful. Bear Island had been filled with trees and icy waterfalls. The tall pine trees dotted the island and the coastline. Even the snowdrifts gave a peaceful quality to the landscape. 

Sansa saw Jon with Ghost approaching her as she watched birds fly from the trees at the sound of tents being raised. 

"Look," she pointed and grabbed his arm. "A snowy owl. It was watching me just before you scared it away."

"Aye, didn't mean to scare your friend off," he said with a smile. Jon rarely smiled she thought _only when we are alone._ He had not smiled much when they were children.Now he smiled even less. With his men, he is stern, like her Lord Father but with her he was different.  _He is kind to me, always kind and gentle._

"It's so beautiful, the North. One day when the fighting is over we will come back here. To visit the people, the land. Think how pretty it will be in early spring," she told him. _And they will love us._

"Aye, we will," he agreed. "The tents are almost ready if you'd like to rest. We will take the smaller tents and fewer supplies to Deepwood Motte. This may be your last chance to have a little comfort until we return to the wildling camp."

"Oh thank you, Jon," Sansa replied. "I think I will walk for a bit. It's not as cold as the Wall and it's so beautiful."

She noticed the look of concern in Jon's eyes, "Ok, stay within the camp circle. We still don't know how friendly the Glovers will be," he warned. 

"Of course," she answered watching him walk back towards the main tents. So much like her Lord Father yet a completely different man. Jon was lean and graceful where her father was broad and muscular. There was something darker, sadder in him, too. Some days when she looked into his gray eyes, she thought she was seeing her own sadness. 

Beginning to walk amongst the trees, she searched for the owl she had seen earlier. _It must be near. Such a pretty white thing._  Drifts had been blown up against the trees leaving natural paths that made for easy movement. As she was walking, she slipped on a patch of ice and fell. 

"My Lady," said a voice. Sansa felt someone shaking her arm. "My Lady, are you ok. Wake up." the voice said again. Sansa gradually opened her eyes to see Lord Davos staring down at her. 

"Oh, I must have fallen," she said slowly pulling herself up. 

"Are you alright, my lady?" Lord Davos asked her. "Did you hit your head?"

"I don't think so," she answered slightly confused. "It feels fine." Davos had a curious look on his face. 

"It took a moment to rouse you, my lady," he said. "Are you sure."

"I'm sure, Lord Davos," Sansa said. Davos was a kind man. He just wanted to be helpful. "Please, would you escort me back to the main tents?"

"Of course, my lady." he responded. 

Sansa and Jon shared the large Lord's tent. It had been divided down the middle to make two rooms. One for her and one for him. That night they shared a meal of bread and stew with their men in one of the larger tents. Despite the cold, some of the Mormont host even sang bawdy songs that made Sansa laugh. It had been so long since she had even dared laugh. She even talked with the young Lady Lyanna Mormont who seemed to prefer Lord Davos' company. _I will win her over,_ Sansa thought. 

The nights had been hard on Sansa. She felt open and exposed still hunted by Ramsey's dogs. Jon had posted guards. Even though she was exhausted, she stayed in the dining tent for as long as possible. Until everyone else had gone except for her and her half-brother. 

"Sansa, you should get some rest," Jon told her. "Tomorrow will be a hard ride."

"Yes," she said. "I know." Getting up she let Jon walk with her back to the large Lord's tent. It had been divided down the center by a thick canvas to make two rooms each with its own entrance. One side for Sansa and the other for Jon. Inside there was a sleeping pallet piled with furs. The sparse room was lit by a candle on an overturned crate. Sansa slowly removed her cloak and boots, followed by her black velvet and silk gown. Clad only in a wool slip and stockings she crawled underneath the heavy furs. The furs were warmer than she expected. She slipped out of her wool stockings, tossing them on the floor. Finally, she succumbed to a restless sleep.

The light gray wolf looked up at her father staring at the knife in his hand. As the wolf stared at the face it began to appear younger, the man's frame to narrow until she was no longer looking at her father but her brother. Sansa woke just before the knife came down. Her breath heavy and her heart racing. _I'm a Stark. I'm brave. Jon wasn't trying to hurt me. He was trying to stop the knife,_ she tried to convince herself.  Looking over at the heavy canvas divider she noticed that a candle was still lit on Jon's side of the tent.

"Jon," she called out softly. At first, he didn't answer.

"Jon," she said more firmly and sitting up in her bed. After a moment she heard the sound of him getting up from his pallet to walk toward the divider.

"Yes," he answered softly. "Are you ok?"

"I..I had a.." she started the say. _He will think you are a silly girl. Afraid of dreams._ "Could you come for a moment."

Sansa heard him sigh as he walked outside the tent and around to the entrance to her side. _I've annoyed him._ She thought but when he entered holding a candle with Ghost at his feet she saw his concerned kind face.

"Sansa, are you alright," he asked again.

"It's just sometimes...out in the open like this..." she couldn't finish. He nodded and seemed to understand.

"I can stay for a bit," he said placing the candle on the overturned crate, looking around for a bench or chair. They had traveled lightly and had only a few hard benches scattered throughout the camp none of which happened to be on Sansa's side of the tent. Finding nothing to sit on Jon started to sit on the hard ground.

"No don't do that," Sansa said. "Come, there is room next to me." She moved over on the pallet to make room for him. Jon stared at her tentatively as if unsure of what to do. Finally, he decided to sit on the edge of the pallet where she had made space for him. Ghost curled up at the foot of the pallet.

Looking at her, "I'm not very good at bedtime stories," he said.

She smiled to herself, "That's ok. Tell me about north of the wall."

"It's cold," he said then laughing added, "And sometimes it's beautiful, it goes on forever." He told of his first morning North of the Wall when he woke up and everything was covered in ice. The world looked as if it was made of glass.

"It must have been magical." she said.

"It was," he agreed.

"I'm cold," she said. "Come under the furs. It'll be warmer." _I'm not really so cold just please don't leave me. If you are here I won't dream again._

He hesitated but gave in to her wishes once she lifted the furs. The pallet was so small they could both barely fit. Jon had to wrap his arms around Sansa. She thought he seemed surprised to notice that she was only wearing her wool slip. 

"Thank you," Sansa said. "I dreamt...it was so sad. It was Lady. When Father killed her." She had told him at Castle Black what happened to Lady. Of all the tragedies they had discussed, every sad tale she had told him that had made him the saddest. True many made him angry and she had spared him the worst of what had happened to her. But the story of how Cersei had forced her Father to kill the direwolf was the one that brought tears to his eyes.

"I know," he responded.

"Do you?" she asked. "Do you dream of Ghost?"

"Sometimes," he said. Ghost's ears perked at the sound of his name before curling into an even tighter ball.

Sansa started to fall asleep again under the furs with Jon's arms wrapped around her. The last thing she remembered was a soft kiss on the top of her head while Jon's hand gently touched her hair. 


	2. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa continue to travel the North attempting to recruit houses to their cause. Things do not go as planned and Jon tries to cheer up his half-sister. Despite Jon's attempts, Sansa is still fearful of being alone at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, the prelude was only supposed to be one chapter before going into the main chapters of the Lady and the Wolf story. I decided instead to include a 3-4 Prelude chapters. Calling it Prelude to Winter. The Lady and the Wolf story will be a series separated into approx. 5 parts. Prelude to Winter being the first and shortest part. It gives a little more insight into what might have happened right before and immediately following the Battle of the Bastards. 
> 
> The smut doesn't start until a few chapters into the second part of the series. The Prelude is pretty innocent..

As the small party rode out of Deepwood Motte, no one spoke. Jon stared straight ahead not looking at his half-sister or the onion knight, Lord Davos. He could feel Sansa seething underneath her lady-like composure. He was frustrated too only he was not surprised by House Glover's refusal. Jon had spent a life-time getting told he was not a Stark. He was used to being denied a claim to the name that raised him. For Sansa, the Stark name had been taken from her and the North was not keen to let her take it back. We are nothing to them, a bastard and a woman. 

"House Stark is dead" rang in his ears. Jon thought House Stark is standing right in front of you. Wnterfell is hers by right. To have the chance to fight for this woman. To do what is right by her. They cannot see her strength. But they will. 

Jon had decided not to take the more common route away from the keep fearing the Glovers would betray them to Ramsey Bolton. He even instructed his men to shoot down any ravens flying from the castle while they were still on Glover land. Ghost had run off into the woods to hunt. Jon knew he would not stray far from them. 

It was a small party including Jon, Sansa, Lord Davos, two of Stannis's remaining men that had somehow escaped Ramsey Bolton to join them, along with two Mormont men and a wildling named Stenn. Jon had dared not take more men. A small fast group would be harder to find if in fact, Ramsey Bolton thought to look for them in this part of the region.

The path from Deepwood Motte narrowed due to the heavy snow allowing for only one rider abreast. Jon saw that Sansa in her frustration did not attempt to slow her horse forcing the others to fall in line behind her. They went on like this for near an hour before the path widened again and he could finally pull up next to her. 

"Sansa, I'm sorry for what the Glovers said," was all he could think to say to her. 

"Do you think they are right?" she asked him.

"You are Ned Stark's trueborn daughter," he answered. 

"Yes," was her only reply. "But is House Stark dead?"

"Not, yet," he said. "You are still here."

"Sometimes, I feel dead on the inside," was her only response. Jon gave her a sidewise look. Jon reflected on his sister's silence. All she had endured in King's Landing and the Vale. She was just a girl when she watched them take their father's head. Which is worse to die on the outside or on the inside? he thought. In his own death, he had felt nothing on the outside. When he came back there was numbness inside him. Sometimes, I think I'm dead on the inside, too. 

He noticed that the rest of the party had fallen back a bit. Jon thought it would be a good time to stop to make water and call for Ghost. Telling Sansa to wait, he walked slightly off the path. On his way back towards her, he grabbed a hand full of snow forming it into a ball. She was standing next to her horse taking the break to be off her saddle. He called her name just as Lord Davos and the others were catching up to them. 

"Sansa," he yelled playfully.

"What?" she said as she turned her head towards him just in time to have snowball hit her square in between the shoulders. Seeing the look of horrified surprise on her face made Jon start to laugh. That's the Sansa, I remember. 

"Jon Snow!" she said as she started to come toward him. Seeing her reach down to pick a handful of snow herself, Jon decided to make a run for it. 

"Oh no you don't, Jon Snow," she said as she started to run after him. "I'm a lady." 

That made him laugh even more has he ran along the path. She was faster than he expected and it wasn't long before a snowball almost hit him. Not a bad arm for someone who insists their a lady.

"You missed," he called out. He heard her huffing and puffing, giving up the chase. 

"You will have to come and get your horse, you know." he heard her call down the path to him.

"I can walk," he yelled back. The cold air in his lungs from running felt good. He called for Ghost who soon joined him as he walked on the path surrounded by snow and stately pine trees. The hoot of an owl caught his attention. He saw Sansa's snowy owl from the day before staring at him than flying off into the sky. 

Before long he heard the horses getting closer, glancing back he saw Sansa sweetly leading his stallion alongside her as she rode her gray mare. Lord Davos and the others following just behind her.  
"Jon come back and ride," she tried to persuade him. "It's lonely without you."

Sighing and giving her a smile he mounted his horse. Turning to her, "Sansa, I'm sor..." he started to say. Barely, a moment later a dozen snowballs pelted him from all sides. 

"Agh," he yelled, "What are you doing!"

"Defending, the lady, my lord," Lord Davos said with a laugh. At that, Jon Snow kicked his horse into a gallop leaving Sansa, Davos, and his men behind. 

 

A few yards up the path, Jon dismounted and quickly began making a mountain of snowballs. As the party approached, he expertly pelted each man leaving the hardest and iciest for Lord Davos. With that the entire party was off their horses tossing snowballs at one and other. Even Sansa was able to get a few hits on Jon, Lord Davos, and one of the Mormont men. 

Finally, exhausted Jon changed his tone. "Alright, enough of that," he said. "We had best get as far from Deepwood Motte as we can today." Everyone was quickly back on their horses. Jon almost began to worry. I shoudn't be joking with my men. Even a small party like this. I have to be their commander. Then, he looked around and saw Sansa's face flushed pink from the fight. Her mood seemed to have lightened a bit, her body energized. The men too seemed to sit a little taller on their horses. Well, a few snowballs are a good way to remember your alive, he thought again glancing at the pink cheeks of his half-sister. 

Jon rode next to Sansa with Davos and a Mormont man leading the way, "We'll find other men," he told her.

"Yes, we must." she said. 

As the rest of the afternoon wore on, they kept up a good pace. The gray sky began to darken just as they had come upon an area where the trees parted. Overhead, Jon spotted a snowy owl.

"Look," he said to Sansa pointing towards the sky. "Wonder if that's your friend from the other the day."

Watching her glance up slightly, "It is," was the only response she gave him.

Jon wondered how she could be so sure. As he continued to look at her he noticed how tired Sansa appeared. Never saying a word or asking to rest, she pressed on at the same pace the men were going. He suddenly felt guilty for not stopping more often. 

"We'll stop here for the night," Jon called out to Lord Davos. 

"Aye, we ride much longer and will be riding under the moonlight, my lord," he answered back.

They dismounted to begin putting up the tents and lighting a cook fire. Jon walked over to Lord Davos slapping him on the back he said, "Since you were so keen to rightly defend our lady's honor today. Shall you put up her tent as well."

Lord Davos chuckled "Of course, my lord," he answered. "Wouldn't want any snow falling on her."

Nodding, Jon went to see where Ghost had gotten off too. Walking closer to the trees, a snowball lightly hit is legs. "I thought I said no more..." he started to say. As he turned he saw his sister sitting on a fallen tree giggling. 

"I thought you were a lady?" he teased her sitting down next to her on the tree.

"Well, a Northern lady should be able to throw a snowball," she replied. 

"You're not a Northern lady, Sansa, you're a Northern princess," he said. 

"I'm not a.." she started to say.

"Robb was King in the North," Jon said firmly. "That makes you a Princess in the North."

"Do you miss him?" she asked Jon.

"Robb?" he asked. "Yes," 

"We'll avenge him," Sansa said.

"And I'll avenge you," Jon added. 

They ate under the moonlight around the cookfire that night. A ring of four small tents were all that made up the camp. Each tent with two men in it and two men on watch. Jon cursed himself for bringing so few. Sansa being the only lady in the party would be given her own tent. While the tents were certainly fine for two men, three could not fit in one. The only option was for Jon to share Sansa's tent. As he thought about laying next to her, he noticed an urge he had not felt since he had been north of the Wall with Ygritte. This is wrong Sansa is my sister. I'm supposed to protect her. Still, his mind went to thoughts of the previous night. Her warm body next to his. Her long stockingless legs that he had tried so hard not to notice. She had a bad dream. I was just comforting her. That's all. 

Gradually, the men retired to their tents. Jon decided the best course of action was to take the first watch with two other men. Much to his dismay, Sansa insisted on staying with him for the first watch. She is just scared out in the open like this. As the fire went down, she started to doze against his shoulder. 

When Davos came to relieve him, Jon nearly had to carry her into the tent. Once inside, he helped her take her cloak off and get under the furs. When he started to crawl back out of the tent, she grabbed his arm to stop him. 

"Jon, please don't go," she said earnestly. "What if the Glovers sent word to the Boltons?"

"Sansa, they may not help us but they will not betray us," he said willing himself to believe it. "I'll be right outside."

"Please, Jon," she said again. He stared into her deep blue eyes the color of the Wall on a sunny day. Sighing he told he would be right back. 

Coming out of the tent he walked toward Davos and the Wildling man called Stenn on watch. 

"The princess must be very tired," Davos observed. "She rode well today."

"Yes," Jon said. "She needs to sleep more."

"Aye," Davos agreed. "After what she has been through, I imagine sleep does not come easy."

Jon nodded and clutched his sword hand. "If I could kill them all," he said. "For what they did to her. To our family, I would kill them a million times over."

"Well, Joffery is dead," he said. "But you will get your chance at Ramsey Bolton."

Before Jon responded, a soft padding noise could be heard from behind them. Jon and Davos turned to see Ghost walking toward the camp. 

"There you are old boy," Jon said. Ghost glanced at him and continued to walk toward Sansa's tent. "Ghost, to me," he commanded. The direwolf only ignored him while he nudged the flap open and walked into the tent. 

Jon heard Davos laugh. "Ha, seems your direwolf prefers, the lady's company to yours," he said. Jon turned and scowled. "Ah, don't be jealous, my lord. And truth be told none of the men here will notice if you take a few hours to rest your eyes in the tent, too," Davos added. 

Jon said nothing only stared into the flames of the campfire. People will notice all kinds of things, some true, some not when it suits them he thought. 

"We all need sleep, my lord," Davos said. "You can't very well watch over the Princess while you're sat out here talking to me."

"I find I don't sleep much since my death," he said. "But I did tell Sansa, I would come back to watch over her." Jon turned away from Davos. "Good night, Lord Davos." he added.

"Goodnight, my lord," Davos said. 

Approaching the tent slowly, Jon felt the longing in his body return. Sighing again, he reminded himself, She is my half-sister. No sister. 

"Jon," he heard her whisper as he entered the tent. In the darkness, he almost stumbled over Ghost. He quickly found his way under the furs with Ghost laying between them. Just like when I first laid next to Ygritte. 

"Are you warm enough," he asked her. 

"Mmm, yes," she said, "Too warm really. I had to take off my dress and stockings." Hearing that Jon felt his longing become stronger. He felt her hand reach over Ghost to touch his arm. "Thank you for staying with me."

Without thinking he grabbed her hand and softly kissed it. "Of course, Sansa. It's just us now." "Just us and Ghost," she said with a little laugh. Jon smiled in the darkness and held her hand in his for the rest of the night.


	3. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starks have won the Battle of the Bastards. While, Sansa prepares for the council with the Northern Lords, Jon comes to tell her that he wants to support her as the rightful heir of Winterfell. Sansa has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a risk for lots of reasons. First off, I included a poem because well in another life I write poetry. I thought it would be a good challenge. 
> 
> Secondly, I normally try to write scenes/stories that have not appeared in the show or books. In this case, I feel there is so much behind the scenes politicking missing when Jon is declared King in the North. So, I decided to include that moment.
> 
> Lastly, Sansa touching Jon under the table is an idea I got from another fic that had them holding hands under the table when he is declared King. I can't remember the fic or the writer. If you know it please let me know so I can give credit. And if it's totally uncool that I used it, I can def take it out... I tried to change it as much as possible. I thought it was a really lovely way to show that they are leaning on each other as the figure out the whole ruling thing.

**Sansa**

Sansa, stared down at the parchment, the words on the tip of her quill. She wanted to put down what happened, to leave a record for all who will come after.  Instead, it was a verse that came to her first. 

When all is said and done  
In the deep night  
It's the hour of wolves  
And winter has come  
The tyrant ruled  
We are but a  
Princess in a tower  
With no one, save birds  
That fly from above

When all is said and done  
The young will return  
Nature reclaims what  
Once was theirs  
On snowy ground  
With cold all around  
We must go down  
So they hear the white  
And the red wolf howl

When all is said and done  
Death is not proud  
It is easier to die  
Then live for now  
When children rise  
The pain subsides  
Spring arrives  
After the longest  
Of the cold nights

Until all the things said  
And all the things done  
Make winter come, again

It was the first words, she had truly written since before her father was killed. _Ravens do not count_. She had tried to put ink to parchment while in the Vale. Only the words would not come and she gave up. Now they flowed out of her with ease. _A fountain of icy tears._ The floodgates were open and everything that had been inside her for so very long could come out.  

There was a knock at the door of the small solar where she had hidden herself to write. 

"Yes?" she asked.

"It's only me," Jon said peaking his head through the door. "Are you busy?"

"No, please come in," she said. Sansa watched Jon enter the room in his leather jerkin, his hair pulled back, walking slowly still sore from the battle. 

"The Lords are arriving," he said as he approached the table. "We will meet this afternoon."

"Good," she said looking up at him meeting his gray eyes as he stood over her. She felt her stomach turn ever so slightly. _Everything will work as planned,_ she assured herself.

"What's all this?" he asked staring at Sansa's papers trying to read them. 

"Oh just something I'm working on," she said nervously organizing the parchments while watching him pick up the piece with her verse on it. 

She saw him smile slightly, "I'm trying to record the battle but all I keep coming up with are verses," she confessed. 

"Won't the Maester record the battle?" he asked putting down the parchment.

"He's from the Dreadfort," she responded. She saw him give her a curious look.

"You would rather write your own history?" he asked.

"Our history," Sansa clarified. "Yes, I would. And we should send for a new Maester."

"They are required to be impartial," he reminded her. 

To that Sansa gave a "hmmm" and picked up her quill.  _No one is impartial_ she thought. 

"The Lords are prepared to swear their fealty to House Stark," he said. Sansa continued to examine her writing. "They will want a firm decision on who is ruling," he added. 

"You have said we will let them discuss the issue as they do at the Wall," she replied.

"Yes, but they vote at the Wall. Here, Winterfell is yours by right," he reminded her. Sansa looked up at her brother with a warm smile. 

"It is your home, too Jon. You've already given me the best bedroom," she said to him with a slight smile. "Besides why would the Lords choose a woman when they can choose a man?"

"Because it is the right thing to do," Jon said. Sansa laughed at this. Jon would do what was right. He was her father's son after all. The Northern Lords and Ladies were another matter entirely. 

"Most men care very little for what is right when it comes to a woman ruling," she said. "Not if they think they have another option."

"Then I won't be an option for them," he said firmly. _No that would not do_ , thought Sansa. 

"Jon, I wanted to come home. I wanted to be safe with my family," she told him. "I got my home. Now, I want it to be secure. I want to find our family. Let's listen to what our bannermen will say."

She watched Jon circle around the table until he was next to her again. "And for us to be safe they must be happy," he said. 

Sansa nodded her response to him. "Content at least," she said looking up at him. "They must be content."

"Bran is out there," Jon said glancing towards the window. "What about him."

"We have to find him, first," she said. "And Arya." Jon nodded to her silently. 

"We should both get ready for the council," he said to her.  Sansa felt him lift his hand to her head and lean over kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes before opening them again looking into his gray eyes. He was still staring at her intently. Again, she felt her stomach flip. As he walked away she wanted to ask him to come back but they had nothing left to discuss. 

"I liked the poem," he said to her before turning and closing the door behind him. 

Sansa let out a sigh and put the quill back down. Getting up from the table, she walked toward the window bringing her hand to her mouth deep in thought. From the small window, she could see the yard and the castle walls. Banners of the lords appeared more numerous, Glover and Manderley, Cerwyn and Dustin. At the far end of the yard, she could see the Vale banners with the Arryn falcon. _Please let this work._

Bringing her attention back to the room, she remembered the weirwood box, she had left on a side table in the corner. _Thank goodness Jon didn't notice that._ Sansa opened it just to make sure the iron and bronze crown was still inside. She hoped it looked like the one Robb had worn. In truth, she had no way of knowing, so few who had been with her brother were left or loyal to ask. It looked lovely, a strong Northern crown encircled with swords pointing up. _He will hate wearing it_ , she chuckled to herself. 

 Closing the lid and picking up the box, Sansa hurried out of the small solar to go back to her room. Jon had given her the Lord's Chamber, the room her Lady Mother had used. It was warm, heated by water from the hot springs underneath the castle running through the walls. In truth, it was almost too warm for her. Sansa liked the crisp winter cold on her skin. It reminded her that even when she felt dead on the inside she was still alive. 

She changed into her black gown with the embroidered wolf on the chest. She would have to make another gown soon. A lady of a great house must have more than one dress. Time for that would come once they secured fealty from the lords. Still, Sansa wished she had another dress for the banquet that would follow the council of Lords. _Something Jon would like_. 

Sansa remembered how he liked the wolf dress the first time she had worn it. She wanted him to see her as a woman, not the girl that had arrived at Castle Black bruised and broken. _He knows I am still broken,_ she thought sadly.  He loved her, though, she knew that. But could he see her as a grown woman, a trusted advisor? He will after today she assured herself. Fixing her hair into a braid that hung over one shoulder, she put on her cloak with the fur collar. It would be cold in the Great Hall. 

Gazing again at the box, she thought about the conversation she had had that morning with Lord Manderly the massive Lord of White Harbour upon his arrival. She asked if a certain rumor she had once overheard Roose Bolton flippantly dismiss was true. The Leech Lord had japed of a missing will making a certain bastard the heir to the King in the North. The great fat Lord looked at her curiously before confirming the rumor to the best of his knowledge. Telling her how Robb intended to make Jon his heir.  _A will that is now lost somewhere in the Neck thanks to the Boltons. S_ he thanked Lord Manderly for the information adding that Jon loved his brother dearly. They both would want to follow Robb's wishes. She also hinted that she hoped the missing will had legitimatized Jon as well. _I have talked with as many Lords as I can without Jon learning of it_ , she thought. _Will or no will, Jon will become our King. He will make me Lady of Winterfell. We can stay here, together in the North. Maybe in spring we can raise the Dreadfort and build a fine summer castle. We can raise our children together as family with all the Northern children highborn and wildling alike._

A knock on the door pulled Sansa out of her daydream. She opened the door to a young squire who had been sent to bring her to the hall. _It is time._ She walked slowly down the hall carrying the box underneath her cloak remembering to breathe. As she got closer to the hall, she came upon Lady Mormont, the 10-year-old ruler of Bear Island. 

"Lady Lyanna, how good it is to see you," Sansa said with a smile as she walked alongside the girl.

The little bear as she was called, squinted her eyes at Sansa, "Hello, your grace," she said. "I'm not sure how good it is to see me. But good day to you." Sansa laughed to herself. Such a fierce little girl, she will make a fine warrior one day. 

"I have mentioned to Lord Snow that you would like to train once the men have recovered from the battle," Sansa told her. Lyanna Mormont looked surprised that Sansa had remembered that detail from their previous conversation. "He thinks it can be arranged. Though, there is much to do and the men must rest before training begins again."

"Of course, Princess Sansa," Lady Mormont said. "Ah..Thank you for remembering."

"It is not a problem," she said. "You must thank, Jon...I mean Lord Snow. He is a good teacher."

"Yes, I will thank him..ahh..Lord Snow," Lyanna said.

Sansa leaning in to whisper to the girl, "Hopefully, we will not have to call him Lord Snow much longer. He is a Stark, I know it," she said again referencing their previous conversation. " Lord Manderly has seen the will as well."

Lyanna Mormont looked up at Sansa, "Lord Manderly didn't answer the call."

"I know," Sansa said. "And I am not pleased about it. But he is here now to pledge his fealty to us...And if he knows of the will..." Sansa's voice trailed off as they reached the doors of the hall. She turned to face the little lady, "Shall we enter?" she said with a smile. The little bear smiled back at her. 

Sansa saw that most of the Lords and Ladies had arrived and seated themselves at tables in the hall. It would have been good to see to their seating she thought but there was no time for that. _This will have to do._  Sansa saw Jon sat at the high table at the far end of the room with an empty seat next to him. _A seat for me,_  She walked slowly down the center aisle allowing Lady Mormont to walk ahead of her. Meeting Jon's eyes as she got closer, she felt her breath hasten. 

The Little Bear took an empty place left for her closest to the high table amongst those who had fought alongside the Starks in the battle for Winterfell. A place of honor for those who had risked the most. A place that included Wildling commanders and Knights of the Vale. _War does make for strange bedfellows,_ she thought. 

 The eyes of the Lords of the North, the Vale, and the Wildlings were upon, Sansa. She willed herself to walk taller. _I am a Lady, a Princess of the North, Daughter of Winterfell, the red wolf. I survived King's Landing, the Vale, the Bolton's, and have reclaimed my home for my family._ She even noticed Lord Baelish watching from the corner of the room _. You will not get your way today, my false Lord._ As she took her seat, she could feel Jon's gaze follow her every mov _e._

Sansa discreetly placed the box on the floor next to her chair. The meeting began with each house announcing their presence and stating they had come to pledge loyalty to House Stark.  The question soon arose as to who would lead House Stark. Jon spoke first declaring that he led the battle for his sister. That she is the rightful Lady of Winterfell and that they believed their young brother, Bran was alive. With that, all the Lords began to speak amongst themselves. Sansa heard the words woman, cripple, and bastard. _Yes, we are a cripple, a bastard, and broken things. My lords, you must choose._

 Sansa glanced towards Lord Manderly hoping he would catch her eye. He did and rose to speak. He said even if Brandon Stark could be found he would still be a boy and a cripple. Not someone who could secure the North. Sansa liked his reasoning not. _If Lord to fat to ride a horse could rule White Harbour, cripple Bran could surely rule Winterfell._  Though, she knew she must let his words stand. _For now,_ she thought. 

Lord Manderly continued to speak telling of a will that Robb their brother and previous King in the North had written after the presumed death of his younger brothers making Jon Snow his heir as King. 

Sansa watched Jon freeze at this revelation, she gently gave him a reassuring pat on his thigh. Before she could move her hand she felt his clamp down on top of hers holding it tightly. Lyanna Mormont then rose to speak, chastising those who did not fight with the Stark siblings. _Good, good_ thought Sansa.  

Before Sansa or Jon could say anything more, Lyanna Mormont was declaring Jon, King in the North with the rest of the Lords joining the chant. Sansa smiled at Jon still feeling his hand clamping down even tighter on her's. This was not what he expected, she could see that plainly enough. She pulled her hand from underneath his and nudged him to rise. As Jon stood, she noticed the look on Lord Baelish's face. She knew this is not what the Lord Protector of the Vale had planned. _No Littlefinger this is what I planned._

Jon stood looking down at her before looking out at the Lords. It seemed as if it were many minutes before the newly declared king spoke. 

"I am humbled by this honor, my lords and ladies," he said. "My only wish was to restore my family's name and bring peace to the North." Sansa saw him again look to her then turn back to the lords. "Our father told us that when winter comes the lone wolf will die but the pack will survive." The lords cheered again shouting King in the North and white wolf.

"With my sister as Lady of Winterfell. There will be much to do, to rebuild," he said. "Winter is here. The North will not only survive, it will thrive." The Northmen continued to cheer. Sansa wore a mask of composure hiding how pleased she was with herself. _Yes, we will thrive as long as we can survive._

The banquet began shortly after that. Wine and ale flowed heavy and food was brought out generously provided by Lord Manderley. They ate for what seemed like hours. Through it all, Jon hardly spoke to Sansa. There were moments she felt his gaze on her. She thought he seemed quite stunned by the earlier events or maybe he was trying to hide his anger. _He will accept being King. Maybe he will even learn to enjoy it._ Though, on that point, Sansa had her doubts. 

Lords and Ladies alike came to the high table to congratulate Jon and again pledge their loyalty to him as King and to House Stark. Even Lord Baelish approached the table to say the words to them. After every Lord or Lady in the hall had approached them, Sansa placed the box on the table and stood. 

"My good Lords and Ladies of the North, the Vale, and North of the Wall," she began. "My brother the King and I thank you for your fealty. You are welcome at our table." 

"Now that we have a new King in the North, we must have a coronation," she stated. Opening the box, Sansa lifted the crown for all to see. The Lords full with ale and food cheered even louder than before. She waited until the crowd quieted before turning to Jon who was seated next to her and staring up at her in awe. She said "I crown you, Jon Snow of House Stark, The white wolf, Lord of Winterfell, King in the North," and placed the bronze and iron crown on his head. She smiled while she thought Jon looked as if he wanted to die all over again. 


	4. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has been crowned King in the North much to his dismay. While confronting Sansa about her role in the behind the scenes politics, Jon begins to realize the great dangers they now face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in Part 1 of the Lady and the Wolf series. As the Prelude, it is the shortest part. The story continues with Part 2, A Light in the North. 
> 
> There is a lot packed into the conversation between Jon and Sansa, here. I want to show how serious their political situation is. It's like an onion and they keep peeling off layers only to find more tears. At the same time, I don't want to get too complicated because I hope they can resolve at least some of the political issues facing the North.
> 
> Jon and Sansa are my babies I don't want them to fail!!!  
> P.S. For the dirty birds out there. A little smut is coming starting around Chapter 3 in A Light in the North.

The white wolf walked through the snow following the scent of an animal. The smell of meat was mixed with the distant hint of dead bodies. The direwolf needed to run, run as far as he could from the castle, far away from the dead. Except the castle gates were closed, leaving only the Godswood for him to prowl. Almost too small to run, the wolf was left to make short sprints. He stopped by the heart tree in the middle of the wood. The face of the large weirwood tree looked down at him, watching.  His ears perked up at the sound of a rustling in the tree. Following the sound up, the wolf saw a snowy owl gazing at him. It's the owl from the Wolfswood near Deepwood Motte. He knew it had been following them, following her, the red one, the one without her wolf.  The wolf pawed at the tree, trying to reach the owl, who flew off. He was jealous of the bird's freedom while he was trapped surrounded by the smell of death. 

Jon woke in a sweat, he had not slept for long. He hardly slept at all since his death. When he did sleep he felt himself go into Ghost. He had long since stopped fighting it. Now, it had become his refuge. He laid in the bed looking up at the ceiling remembering the owl he or was it Ghost had seen. _Sansa's owl. Sansa,_ he thought.The events of the day came suddenly back to him at the thought of her. He had gone to his room to escape the Lords who at this hour were deep in their drink in The Great Hall but he could not hide from what had happened. _They made me King in the North. Sansa even had a crown ready to place on my head._ He felt a mix of shame and anger. _This should be Robb's or Bran's or Sansa's. I'm not a Lord or a King._ Jon did not know if he wanted to cry or rage. The two emotions competing inside of him. Instead, he rose from his bed putting on his jerkin and breeches. _I will speak to her is what I will do_ and he left his room to find his sister.

The newly crowned King in the North stormed down the hall towards the Lord's Chamber. His fists clenched, his hard gray eyes fixed straight ahead. _What did she do? I do not want this. She knows this._

Coming to the heavy wooden door of the room, Jon Snow ignored Sansa's lady knight, Brienne of Tarth who had only just returned to Winterfell, banging loudly. Practically, yelling his sister's name, "Sansa," he demanded entry. The lady knight had stood aside for her king but he saw she kept her hand on her sword eyeing him with caution. 

"Yes," said a soft tired voice from inside. "Come in." Jon entered followed by Brienne with her hand still on her sword. Jon gave the knight an annoyed look.

"It's ok, Brienne," Sansa said quietly from her bed. "I asked his grace to come speak with me," She added. Jon noticed the lie come out of her with ease. 

Brienne nodded still staring at Jon as she walked out of the room. "Yes, your grace," Brienne said. "If you need anything I am right outside the door." Jon found the comment unnecessary and continued to give Brienne a sour look. 

Taking Sansa in as she sat in the large bed propped up against pillows with needlework in her hands, Jon felt less confident in his anger.  She looked almost girlish underneath the furs in a black and gold dressing robe loosely tied around her. _Too lose_  he thought as his eyes followed the v that the robe made before he could remind himself that she was his sister, half-sister. He never thought of her as his half-sister.  _We do not share a mother._ Suddenly, the thought eased his shame returning him to his anger. 

"Did you plan this?" he asked with a tinge of anger in his voice.

He saw Sansa keep her head down, "Plan what, your grace?"

"Stop that," he told her. "Speak plainly when we are in private. Did you plan for me to be crowned?"

Putting her needlework down she sighed, "Jon, do you not want to be King in the North?"

"Sansa, we agreed to trust each other," he said. "Tell me what role you played in this." He studied her carefully as she turned away biting her lip just slightly.

"I might have helped it along a bit," she said. 

"Sansa are you daft?" he said in anger.

"You asked me to tell you and then you get angry?" she said to him annoyed. 

"An independent North? That's what this means. It means a war," he said. "You understand that?"

"What choice do we have?" she asked him. "To come to some agreement with the throne? Cersei hates us. She hates me. The Lannisters will not agree to anything."

"All I promised you was your home back and protection," he said. "Not this. Not more war."

"I did not ask for your protection just for my home," she said. "And since you think I need it. This is how we will all be protected."

"How, Sansa?" he asked incredulously. "How does this protect us?"

Sansa stared at him. He saw she was about to tell him she did not know. _That is not good enough. You know. You know, Sansa Stark._

"Tell me how does this protect us?" he said again. Fidgeting underneath her furs, he watched Sansa through them off her to get out of bed. 

"If I am Lady of Winterfell and you are just you," she said struggling to find the right words as she sat upright on the edge of the bed. "Someone will want to marry me. They will want our home. They will make a deal with the throne. And neither of us will last long if that happens."

She added, " Re-building the North will be at risk. And..and if what you say is out there beyond the wall. The North will not be united to fight it."

"And me being King changes that," he said softer. He felt a hot shame rush over him. He had not thought of her position, of their position. _Of course, they will want to marry her. It is not just the North that wants to be independent._

"I hope," was her only answer. Jon moved to sit next to her on the bed.

"Sansa you don't have to marry anyone you don't want to marry," he said. 

"Now, I don't. Unless you make me," she said with a slight smile as she got up to walk towards one of the windows. 

Jon's eyes followed her as she walked. _Gods, she has become beautiful. Beautiful and tall._  "And what would you do if I did?" he asked only half joking.

He heard her laugh at that, "I've always thought I'd like to peck someone's eyes out," she said continuing the jape. Jon thought he heard an owl hooting somewhere nearby. 

"Well, I'll have to remember that," he said moving towards her. She turned when he was just behind her. 

Sansa's head was tilted when she said, "Jon, you know I couldn't hurt you. Even if you sent me to the farthest desert of Dorne or the Lands of Always Winter to marry."

He reached up to touch her hair. "And I won't ever be sending you away," he responded. Jon could not help but notice the sad smile she gave him. _Winterfell isn't home without you._  "I only want you to tell me what you are planning," he added stepping away from her. 

"Yes, I know," she said looking down slightly. "I thought you wouldn't agree with it."

"You thought right," he said walking back towards the bed. 

"It's what the Northern Lords wanted," she replied. "They want a Northern ruler. They don't want to send their taxes to King's Landing."

"And how will we feed our people in winter without help from the throne?" he asked knowing this was a conversation for another time. _And how will we fight the others with only the men we have now._ He sat on the edge of the bed leaning forward with his elbows on his knees waiting for her response. She looked back at him, a look of uncertainty on her face. 

"We have stockpiles as do our Lords," she said. "We will rebuild the glass gardens."

"And if it is not enough?" he asked.

"We can buy food from the east," she said coming to sit next to him on the bed. _If we can find the money_  he thought. They were still counting the spoils taken from the Bolton's coffers. The Dreadfort's resources would have to be counted as well. Jon doubted it would be enough for a long winter. 

"There is the Vale, too," he added. Jon noticed her back stiffen at the mention of this.

"No," she said. "I don't think that is a good idea." Jon was surprised by this. It was Sansa who had brought the Vale forces to their doorstep. 

"Why?" he asked not with anger but with curiosity. "I'm sure they would be willing."

Sansa turned to him grabbing his hands, Jon looked into her deep blue eyes. "Promise me, you won't ask the Vale." she pleaded with him. 

"I don't understand," he said. "They seemed more than willing to help us in battle. They will want something for that."

"That's what I fear," she said shaking her head. "

" I know you don't trust Littlefinger. But Littlefinger is not all of the Vale and I'm sure something could be worked out for everyone," Jon said matter of factly. 

"Jon, it's too dangerous," she begged. "Nothing happens without him knowing. Without his approval. He would own the North. Some way, somehow."

"What do you mean," he asked watching his sister look away again kneading her hands carefully thinking over her words.  "What happened in the Vale? Why did the lords give him so much power?"

"He paid some," she said. "Has secrets on others. And others..."

"Yes..." Jon willing her to continue feeling a queasiness in his stomach. 

"He bought their debt and then forced them to do what he wanted," she finished. 

"Dammit, Sansa," he spat out before he could stop the words. "I'm sorry," he quickly added seeing her shocked face. 

"I didn't know how to explain it to you," she said. "The details...I don't even understand it all. As long as we don't have debts he can purchase. It's ok." Jon could not bare to look at her. He thought of the Iron Bank and the Night's Watch. 

"We don't have debts? Do we, Jon?" she looked at him anxiously. 

He ran his hand through his hair, "The Watch...the Watch still owes the Iron Bank money for food for winter," he confessed to her. "I negotiated it with them. The Watch must pay but I signed the papers."

"Oh," she said.

"And we don't know what debt if any the Bolton's might have had," Jon added. "And as you said he sold you them?"  
  
"Yes," she said her back stiffening again. 

"For what? For how much? Did they still owe him?" he asked. Jon was immediately sorry he asked the question. He saw a flash of the broken girl that had arrived at Castle Black. A sadness washed over her that quickly turned to an icy mask. To Jon, she looked as cold as he felt on the inside since his death. 

"I don't know," she whispered so softly he could barely hear. "I don't know about that."

Taking her hands, he wanted to will her back into this world. "I know it is hard. We have to find out. We have to find out what he really wants from us," he told her. 

"I think I should go to sleep now," she said still whispering. Jon started to get up feeling worse than he did when he entered the room. 

"I'm sorry I bothered you about all this when it is so late," he said regretting his earlier anger. She was staring past him into the hearth. He wanted to hold her caressing her hair telling her everyone that had hurt her was gone. He knew that was not true nor could he promise to give her that. All he could say to her was "You don't have to carry this alone."

As she climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over her, he heard her say, "Please stay. There are so many people in the castle, tonight." 

Jon looked at Sansa. Taking the high-backed chair from near the hearth and placing it next to her bed, he blew out the candles in the room. In the dark winter night, the King in the North began his rule watching the only family left to him fall asleep to her nightmares. 

 

 

 


End file.
